


When the moon shines by day

by nensha



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Comedy, Dialogue Heavy, Drinking & Talking, Drunkenness, Fluff and Humor, Guitars, Hangover, Humor, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Prompt Fic, Slice of Life, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 09:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30019764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nensha/pseuds/nensha
Summary: V wakes up with horrible hangover and wants to know what happened last night. A text for "new ability" prompt.
Relationships: Kerry Eurodyne/V
Comments: 24
Kudos: 32





	When the moon shines by day

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is quite special, because it's like a milestone for me. It's my first fanfiction written in English, my first prompt text and my first romance EVER.
> 
> And it's all YOUR fault, hellsheep! :D
> 
> Many, many thanks for encouragement and for those long hours of discussions, not only on CP2077. It was really great to share my thoughts with someone who understands me! :D I hope you like my version of "new ability" prompt. To be honest, I'm rather afraid to publish it... It was supposed to be much shorter, but making it longer and longer is what always happens to me.
> 
> (To anyone else who reads that – don't forget to check her approach on this prompt. She's such a perceptive and talented author!)

„Shit, V. You really don't know when to stop, do you?"

Kerry was leaning against the bathroom sink cabinet, grinning and obviously having fun. V didn't say anything, just looked into the toilet bowl again and swore to himself that when all that nausea and headache pass, he will kill the bastard.

"Want some massage?" Kerry put his hands in front of him and started moving the fingers. "Heard once that's what they do to pregnant chicks to stop vomiting. Wait a sec… fuck, you are not…? I'm not ready for that!" He covered his lips, pretended to be scared.

V sighed. _Seriously? How fucking old was that guy for such lame jokes?_ He really didn't have any wish to listen to that childish teasing any second longer. He opened the mouth, ready to make Kerry shut up for the rest of the day, but the second he did that, his stomach finally surrendered.

"Fuck! You could've warned me at least, you son of a bitch!" yelled Kerry, jumping out of the bathroom. "I swear I'm never gonna kiss you again, goddamn!"

V could hear the weird, retching noises that Kerry was making somewhere outside the bathroom and smiled to himself, despite the excruciating headache. That faint feel of satisfaction was worth the pain.

* * *

"You alive?" murmured Kerry.

He didn't even turn around when he heard V's steps. Kerry obviously hasn't forgiven that sudden... externalization yet.

"Yep. Well, I think so. Still got at least a few months to go."

"Ha, ha. Very funny. Asshole."

V sat on the bar stool, put the elbows on the island countertop and hid his face in hands so he didn't have to look at the bottles on the shelves behind Kerry. Even looking at more alcohol was slowly making him sick again. _Ouch_. He still didn't feel well after last night. It was like his head weighed thrice as much as normally but he knew it was just very bad hangover. _How much did I drink yesterday...?_

"There."

Something herbal and steaming tickled V's nostrils. He pulled down the hands and saw a big mug full of dark liquid in front of him.

"Strong, black tea with sugar," explained Kerry, when he noticed V's confused look. "Pure 'ganic stuff, best for the next day syndrome. Got this preem tip from one Polish bartender during my tour in Europe. You ever knew Poles are, like, damn emperors of drinking? No amount is a challenge for 'em."

"I didn't. But my poor Asian genes are whispering to my ear that I shouldn't even think about trying to catch up with the Polish."

"Lame excuse. You know I'm half Asian too?"

"Yeah. And half booze, apparently."

Kerry burst out laughing. V wished he could do the same, although he had a strange feeling that it wouldn't be the best idea. Instead, he sipped the tea. It smelled very nice, yet also turned out to be sickly sweet. V winced, but eventually swallowed the liquid.

"Why the hell is it SO sweet?!"

"Sorry, kid." Kerry shrugged. "It has to be this way. You'll feel better soon."

V carefully looked around. Kerry's place was as messy as always, but something was not quite right even for that level of untidiness. He had no idea what triggered that feeling, but put the blame on that cloudy thinking for now. V took another sip of the tea and gulped it down as fast as he could, trying to hold his breath and not to burn his throat at the same time.

"How's that possible you're fresh as a daisy, Ker? You drank at least as much as me."

"Simple," started Kerry. "Preserving myself with ethanol for more than sixty years surely does the trick. Became immune or something. Also, 'nother perk is I can't remember the last time being ill. _Got chrome in my bloodstream, gotta disinfectant as well_ ," he hummed with a smile. "I bet my single touch can now cure cancer, cyberpsychosis and bad taste in music."

"How about a dying merc?"

Kerry's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Don't even start."

"Okay. Hangover, at least?"

"Dunno. This we can check."

V opened his mouth to remind Kerry what he had said not that long ago outside the bathroom, but suddenly both of them heard a quiet beep, indicating a new text message. Kerry rolled his eyes, gave a very theatrical sigh, then cursed under his breath and finally reached for the phone into jeans' pocket. As he was reading the message, his face was slowly changing. It was clear Kerry wasn't happy with what he just learned.

"Sorry, V, change of plans. Gotta go to the studio, those motherfuckers were supposed to do the final mix of the single and they deleted the guitar part instead. There's no backup copy and it has to go to the pressing plant tomorrow. Dickheads were too afraid to even give me a call." Kerry sighed heavily. "Long story short, I'm in deep shit. Neck deep."

 _Click_. The guitar part. That's what felt distinctly wrong. Kerry always paid a lot of attention to keep his precious guitars downstairs, exposed at the wall. But now, there was a black electric guitar nearby just lying on the floor, left like some unnecessary trash. Something was off.

"S-sorry, what were you saying?"

Kerry raised his eyebrows and stayed silent for a while.

"Eh, I must leave now," he said finally. Then he went from behind the island countertop and lifted the guitar, examining it carefully inch by inch. "Not damaged, good," he murmured to himself. "Wanna join me? Maybe you could be of any help, 'specially after yesterday."

"Me? What? What have I done?" V felt some shivers down the spine. Something was _definitely_ off.

Kerry's eyebrows went even higher. He was silently judging V with a suspicious look for a short time, then started laughing.

"So you _really_ don't remember the last night! Gosh, V, I knew you're not much of a heavy drinker, but this?"

"Shut up, Ker," V snapped. "I do remember, just… not everything."

"Yeah, 'course you do." Kerry, still grinning, hid the guitar into a case. "Hop into the Del, if you wanna know the whole story. It'll be here in a minute. Can't stay any longer, honest."

* * *

Kerry was truly impressed. Of course he knew that V was feeling worse and worse every day. Even if Kerry pretended not to notice that, he just couldn't fool himself. He didn't fully understand what happened in Mikoshi – V wasn't exactly eager to explain so Kerry felt it might be rude to ask, but he knew it had a great impact on that merc. Both mentally and physically.

And yet V was constantly trying to prove that he was in brilliant condition. What a stubborn gonk.

That evening at the Afterlife they both had their own little reasons to celebrate. Kerry's new single was about to be released finally and V settled the score with some Maelstroms who thought it would be a great idea to bully the club's customers. Truth be told, Kerry never needed any motivation to have a drink, but it was always better to have a good excuse and feel a bit less guilty.

But tonight, Kerry was really impressed. V often avoided alcohol, and even if he had decided to drink, he would have stopped after two or three bottles of beer. But there he was – already having four glasses of whiskey, two bottles of beer plus a few shots in his stomach. And he still was able to walk on his own on their way home.

"Hey... Ker, why do we almost always meet at _your_ place?" asked V when they entered the villa. "It's usually me who comes here. I feel as if I was living here."

"The turns on the way to North Oak. I fuckin' hate 'em! Every time I need to drive to the town, I get sick. Shithead who came up with that idea should be neutered, so their cursed bloodline gets wiped out!"

V chuckled. He took off his leather coat and didn't even bother to hang it – just threw the piece of clothing to the floor. The same happened to the cap and aviator sunglasses. For a split second Kerry thought that maybe, just maybe, his influence on V wasn't exactly positive, but then he remembered he wasn't that kind of person to be bugged with such petty details.

So he threw his vest to the floor, too.

V didn't wait for any invitation and went upstairs, not even looking back. Kerry followed him, curious about the next move. He knew that V was already drunk and normally the merc would go straight to bed, but for some strange reason still had a lot of energy to spend.

When Kerry reached the top of the stairs, he noticed V standing in front of the alcohol shelf and examining the bottles one by one. Kerry was actually quite proud of his small collection, which included such gems as 1907 Heidsieck champagne, 50-year-old Japanese Yamazaki whiskey or "Atomik" vodka brewed from rye grown in Chernobyl. All that booze was surely more expensive than the car standing on the driveway outside... but it was worth every eddie spent on it.

Kerry silently approached the shelf and stood next to, but slightly behind V. From so close he could smell V's woody cologne and alcohol which together made quite an interesting mix. It was... surprisingly arousing.

"Whatcha lookin' for?"

"I dunno. Something hard and bitter?"

In response, Kerry made an inviting gesture towards the big shelf. V studied the collection for a short time, and finally he reached for a bottle made of clear, thick glass filled with amber-coloured liquid.

"How about that?" asked V, handing the bottle to Kerry. "I like that butterfly on top."

Kerry carefully took the bottle and held it for a moment in his hand, laughing inside. _For real? He chose it, 'cause the glass butterfly cap was pretty?_ V was drunk, definitely, even though he looked pretty fresh.

"Huh? Legacy rum? Nah, not the best option." He put the alcohol back to its place on the shelf. "If you want it rough tonight, and I can see you do, then I've got something much better."

Kerry squatted down and searched the lowest shelf for a moment. It must have been somewhere there...

"Gotcha!" He victoriously straightened up and put the bottle into V's hands. "It'll be perfect."

Kerry caught V's surprised glance at an old, dusty flask. Sure, it looked like it had already been emptied of its original contents and then filled with water. Also, the label was weird, there was an ear of grain and some text in a foreign language. V looked into Kerry's eyes, obviously waiting for some explanation.

"Polish moonshine. One hundred percent homemade, one hundred percent illegal. Distilled from potatoes by my old friend Tomek. Such a good, good choom. Used to be a roadie in my band a few years ago."

"Wait, what? You said: potatoes?" V looked baffled.

"Yeah." Kerry nodded. "No big deal in Poland. Isn't it awesome? Tell ya, those guys surely will survive even in the darkest of times if they can make booze out of nothing. Siddown, make yourself at home and try to find a clean glass. Two for each of us. I'll grab some juice, we're gonna need it."

V, still visibly confused, flopped down on a white couch and reached under the coffee table. There were a couple of glasses, so V took four, shook them to get rid of any drops and put them on the table. Kerry opened the bottle and sniffed the liquid. Phew, that was some strong stuff! Then he poured moonshine into the smaller glasses and filled the taller ones with orange juice he found behind the counter.

"Any toast?" asked Kerry, when they both raised their glasses.

V pondered for a moment.

"How about... the potatoes that died so we can enjoy that booze?"

"You mad? Out of all toasts, you wanna drink for damn veggies?"

"Yeah, why not. No idea for what else we could drink." V shrugged.

Kerry rolled his eyes.

"How about, I don't know, us? The Afterlife? All our dead friends? Mayor Peralez's common sense or Lizzy Wizzy's chrome tits? ANYTHING loftier than potatoes?"

"Nah. I like it." V moved his glass closer to Kerry's and giggled. "Let's empty the shots. To the potatoes."

Kerry heaved a sigh, but he touched V's glass with his own and drank everything in one gulp. He felt that familiar warmth in the throat and stomach almost immediately after swallowing but had to admit the moonshine was sharper than he remembered from the past. Of course he was younger when he tried it for the first time, yet suspected that it grew stronger over the years sitting on the shelf.

"Whew!" Kerry put his glass on the table with a loud clink. He grabbed juice and took a quick sip. "Now that's some good stuff!"

V, on the other hand, didn't seem to cope very well with that new kind of alcohol. He started coughing, his face became red and eyes were so watery it looked like he was crying. Kerry suppressed a laugh and kindly passed V a glass with juice, which he drank very fast.

"The fuck, Ker?" gasped V when he was able to speak again. "What was that? Liquid fire?"

"You feel the heat?" Kerry thumped his own chest. "It means your body's ready! Next shot gonna be better."

And, not even waiting for V's reaction, he poured some more moonshine. Kerry was really curious about why V had that sudden urge to get hammered that night - it was more than obvious, that guy couldn't hide such things. If he wanted to discover the reason, he had to set the correct pace.

"Another one?" Kerry raised the glass.

"My tongue is numb," mumbled V. He shook his head and blinked a few times, clearly confused.

"Stop complainin' V. Take some more juice and be brave. Ready?"

It was evident that V was anything but ready.

"Y-yeah," he said.

"Hella preem. Well then… _no to cyk_!" Kerry emptied his glass. "What? I learned that from Tomek," explained Kerry, upon seeing V's clueless look. "That's what he was saying before drinkin', some kind of toast or else. Dunno what it means, but it's still better than your potatoes."

For a moment both were silent.

"You know what, Ker?" started V with a random smile. This time he didn't need that much juice to wash down the moonshine. "I like being here. I really do."

"Heh." Kerry felt warmth in his chest and that time it wasn't the booze. "Glad to hear. Despite the turns, I s'ppose." He filled the glasses again.

"I didn't like it back then," continued V, not paying attention to Kerry's words. "When I got here for the first time. I didn't like how..." he hesitated, "you welcomed me. You know. That gun thing," said V. He apparently got used to the strong taste of moonshine, as he drank it faster than Kerry this time. "Just... tell me what happened. I need to know."

"Yeah? What?"

"Why are you making me say that?" asked V angrily. "Did you really wanted to shoot yourself in the head that day? I'm not an idiot. Nobody showers with a gun."

Oh. So that was the reason V needed to get drunk. To do some fucking investigation. Kerry would lie to himself that he wasn't expecting that, but it still was a bit sudden. He had no wish to talk about that, though. From the current perspective getting a bullet wasn't the wisest thing to do, but back then he thought that was the only way to deal with all the problems.

Thinking about how close he was to the brink of the abyss, was still scaring him so much that he wanted nothing more than to forget that night. On the other hand, he probably owed V some sincerity. It felt like finding himself between a rock and a hard place.

"Don't underestimate me, choom," Kerry snorted indignantly. "My head is completely bulletproof. Had to pay a lot of eddies for that, but tell ya it was worth it!"

"Fuck, so in the chest then. Or stomach. I don't give a damn where. Did you?"

"Damn you, V... Yeah," said Kerry with resignation. "Yeah, I did. So what? I don't want to do it anymore. Got lucky you broke into, many thanks for that. Happy?"

That unexpected confession left V speechless. His eyes widened as he was watching Kerry without blinking. That was too difficult to bear.

"Look, V, I really don't want to delve deeper into that," started Kerry, wanting this conversation to end as fast as possible. "Had my own reasons. It happened, end of story. It's the past, honest. And I've already said 'fuck it' to the past," he added, as he felt he needed to reassure V somehow.

"O-okay," spoke V finally. He cleared his throat. "I'm just glad it's the past. Very glad. Sooo... another shot?"

"Damn right. But lemme bring a guitar first. I feel a strong urge to cheer up the atmosphere."

When Kerry came back with a guitar and amplifier, he found V leaning on the backrest with his eyes closed. V looked like he was asleep, but no – upon hearing the footsteps, he got up. Kerry sat down with the guitar and gently touched the strings. Ah, that feeling of the first sound coming out was like all the evil from the world could vanish. He absolutely loved the moment when he was taking the neck of the guitar into his hand. After all those years of playing, it still was as thrilling as during the very first time. Yet, he sometimes wished he could turn back time and experience that day once again. It truly was unforgettable.

"Hey, Ker..." V's voice broke Kerry out of his thoughts. "Do you think... you could maybe teach me how to play the guitar?"

Kerry laughed.

"You're completely drunk, V. Go to sleep."

"I am drunk," agreed V. "But I still want to try."

"Why?" Kerry really wanted to know.

"Dunno. And weird to explain. Sometimes I just feel... I feel I need to play. Like now. Watching you playing, my body wants to grab the guitar."

That sounded ominous. Was that even possible? Until now, Kerry was sure that Johnny had been left in Mikoshi. Or... had he?

"Well... okay, I guess. Just have in mind I'm an awful teacher. C'mere."

V stood up and, swaying a little, changed his place to the one next to Kerry. He carefully took the guitar.

"Okay, so grab the neck. And then… W-what the hell are you doin', V?!" shouted Kerry upon seeing V's hands tightening around his throat.

"You said: grab the neck."

Kerry did a facepalm and let out a loud sigh.

"You ever seen anyone playing? This part, V." He stroked the long piece of dense wood. "This is the neck. Hell, just look at me now and repeat, ok?"

"Is that good?"

"Lemme..." Kerry corrected the position of V's hands on the instrument. "Yep, it's okay now. Gonna teach you a simple one-finger power chord for now. The rest when you get sober."

V smiled broadly, then nodded readily and seemed satisfied.

"Preem. So you need to put your index finger on that second fret of the A-string. No, V, only the tip of the finger. Gotcha? Take the pick and let it run to the second string. Ready? Go."

A horrible, hellish sound filled the room. Kerry jumped in his seat and started thinking it might have been a bad idea to teach that guy how to play the guitar. It was now evident there was no Johnny in him. Even when completely drunk, Silverhand could play the most difficult solos with not a single mistake.

"Shit, V. Not all of the strings at once! And bend that finger a bit, you're touching the rest. Bend! Are you made of wood or what? Again. Just… more gently this time, okay?"

"Okay."

The second try was better.

But the third was bad again.

* * *

"That's more or less 'bout yesterday," said Kerry, leaving the Del. Nobody was waiting outside the recording studio, probably the crew was still terrified to meet an angry musician. "Oh, I almost forgot. After you mastered that one chord, you jumped onto the table and played it till you decided it's high time you learned another one. Sadly, you fell asleep in the meantime, on my shoulder. Still feels numb a bit."

V took a deep breath.

"It's your fault, Kerry. If only you hadn't poured that booze all night..."

"Then you'd never have asked me to teach you," finished Kerry, as they reached the recording room. "Nah, c'mon, it was funny."

There were already some members of the staff who started explaining the situation in panic and apologizing, but Kerry silenced them with a hand gesture. He didn't pay attention to them at all, not even saying "hi". He must have been truly pissed off at the staff, V knew that guy for long enough to be able to know his moods.

"Now, why don't we check if you remember anything?"

"I don't think it'd be a good idea..."

"Stop whinin'." Kerry turned on the guitar he brought and gave it to V.

V had a bad feeling about that, but he sat on a sofa in the studio and grabbed the instrument. Strangely, his hands somehow automatically positioned themselves on the guitar. He glanced at Kerry, looking for support. The musician was smiling and nodded with encouragement. It was... promising, so V touched the strings.

Judging from Kerry's face, it was painfully obvious to V that rockstar career wasn't awaiting him.


End file.
